


Restoration

by Duck_Life



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation (Movies)
Genre: Friendship/Love, Gen, Healing, Holodecks/Holosuites, Past Rape/Non-con, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 10:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21318493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duck_Life/pseuds/Duck_Life
Summary: Geordi learns more about what happened to Data during the time he spent in the Borg Queen's clutches.
Relationships: Data & Geordi La Forge
Comments: 2
Kudos: 80
Collections: Star Trek Fics





	Restoration

He’s currently on leave, so it’s not like there’s a shift for him to miss. If there were, somebody might have noticed his absence sooner. As it is, no one realizes they haven’t seen Data until Geordi’s in Ten-Forward with Beverly and Deanna and they all confirm they haven’t seen him since yesterday. 

“I’m gonna go check on him,” Geordi says, finishing his drink. 

He rings Data’s quarters three times. Nothing happens. Anxiety creeps up Geordi’s spine like a slug, cold and nauseating. “Security override, La Forge.” The door slides open and Geordi storms in, only to skid to a stop when he sees Data lying sideways across his bed, staring sightlessly at the ceiling like a mannequin. “Data!”

Geordi rushes to the bed, hands hovering over Data’s motionless form. Schematics are flying through his brain, accompanied by a persistent pang of worry. Geordi finds the activation switch on Data’s back and flips it. 

The effect is immediate. Data hums to life, his one working eye lighting up. As his panic gradually abates, Geordi takes in the scene a little more clearly— Data, deactivated on his bed. One arm bent behind him, as though… as though he were reaching for his “off” switch. 

“Geordi,” Data says, his eye flicking over to look at him. He sits up, careful to keep the exposed part of his face turned toward the wall. “What are you doing in my quarters?”

“I came to see if you were alright,” Geordi says. 

“As you can see, I am functioning within normal parameters,” Data assures him.

Geordi just stares at him with disbelief. (That’s something nice about the new eyes, anyway; it’s a lot easier for people to read his facial expressions. Even Data.) “You wanna cut the bullshit?” Geordi says quietly. He sits down on the corner of Data’s bed, but when he notices the way Data stiffens up, he resumes standing. “You shut yourself off.” 

“I…”

“Data.”

“It is not like sleeping,” Data says. “When I sleep… I have nightmares.” 

“So you shut your dream program off,” Geordi says. He’s trying not to sound angry, but it’s difficult. “You don’t shut  _ yourself _ off.” 

“Even— even— even with the dream program off I cannot turn off my… my  _ thoughts _ ,” Data says. “I just needed a break. I am sorry. I am sorry. I am sorry. I just needed a break.” 

"You shouldn't deactivate yourself every time you need a break," Geordi says, trying not to think too hard about the closest appropriate analogy. "Just… just come to me, okay? Or Worf, or Troi. We're all here for you, Data."

"I know," Data says. He sounds distant, tinny, like a fading transmission. 

Geordi stares at him for a long moment, and then he walks to the replicator and orders up two cups of hot chocolate. "Here," he says, slipping one mug into Data's hand. "It'll make you feel better."

"I very much doubt that," Data says, but he drinks. 

They sip hot chocolate in silence for awhile. There's so much that Geordi wants to ask him— about assimilation, about the Borg Queen, about what exactly happened during the time he was down on Earth with Cochrane. But he stays quiet. He drinks his drink. He tries not to think about it. 

Eventually, Data says, "I did not realize it could feel bad."

Geordi stares at him. "What could, Data?"

"Sex."

Geordi sees red. It's not a problem with the implants. 

He sinks down to a seated position on Data's couch, trying to tamp down the boiling rage and horror in his gut. "Data… did she… ?"

"She attempted to seduce me," Data explains. His voice sounds far away again. "I submitted in order to more conclusively gain the Borg's trust, resulting in our ultimate defeat of them. I did as she asked, Geordi. And… my body responded to the stimuli. But it did not  _ feel  _ right. I did not know an act with pleasure being the end result could feel so… bad."

And Geordi, Geordi wishes he knew what to say to that but he just doesn’t. 

“I want you to talk to Counselor Troi about… damn, all of it, Data,” Geordi says. “Make an appointment with her— please.” 

Data sips his hot chocolate. “I will schedule an appointment with the counselor,” he says. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Days pass. Gradually, the ship begins to look and feel more and more like the  _ Enterprise  _ again. Panels are replaced. Rooms are rebuilt. As their home heals, the crew heals with it. 

Geordi finds Data in holodeck 2. At first, he can't believe what he's seeing— it looks like Engineering, but the Borg chambers are back. All the invasive technology they ripped out of the real Engineering is here in the holodeck version. And the Borg Queen is there, too. 

"You’re becoming more human all the time," she leers, one finger tracing along his jaw. He isn't strapped to the Borg's torture table, but he looks trapped all the same. "Now you’re learning how to lie."

"Data, what the hell?" Geordi says, stomping into the holodeck. "Computer, end program." The Borg Queen vanishes. The scraped-out, haunted version of Engineering vanishes, leaving only Data. "What are you doing?"

"It… it is called exposure therapy," Data says, looking down. "By revisiting the site and conditions of… of anxiety-inducing incidents, I can more effectively—"

"Have you been to see Counselor Troi yet? Was this her idea?"

Data still won't look at him. "No," he says finally. "I have not spoken with her."

"Why would you… why would you recreate this situation?" Geordi asks, his voice barely more than a whisper as he steps closer. 

"I theorized that if I re-enacted the events that led to… that resulted in…" He jerks his head, shoulders hunching inward. "I thought if I relived it enough, the memory would no longer…  _ hurt _ ."

"Data…"

"I do not want to feel it anymore," he says, his single eye wide and terrified. "I do not want to  _ feel  _ her breath on my skin, I do not want to hear her voice, I do not want the fear and the shame and… I do not want it!"

His hands have come up to cover his face now, but whether that's a defense thing or an effort to hide the ragged metal from view, Geordi isn't sure. 

"Computer," Geordi says, "221B Baker Street."

The familiar furnishings materialize around them— the mantel, the fireplace, the credenza, the shelves, the armchair, the sofa. 

"Come here," Geordi says, extending a hand for Data to take. He doesn't want to put a hand on Data and startle him. Right now, it seems better to let Data decide whether he wants to be touched. 

Data takes Geordi's hand and lets him lead him to the couch. The fire crackles. They've spent so many evenings here, alone together, unraveling mysteries or often just relaxing. Geordi would play Watson and dutifully take notes while Data solved mysteries and played the violin and chewed on his replicated pipe. 

"My dear Data," Geordi says, squeezing his hand. Data squeezes back. 

"Do you remember," Data says, "when Mrs. Hudson kept inquiring as to my yellow eyes and pale skin?"

"Yeah," Geordi says, smiling at the memory. "She thought it was the cocaine."

"I would never pass for Holmes now," Data remarks, his fingertips rising the graze the marred side of his face, where there is no synthetic skin to cover the circuitry. “It is ironic,” Data says softly. “In my effort to become more human, I have ultimately become more of a machine than ever before.” 

Geordi looks at him carefully. The place where his synthetic skin was ripped away gleams in the dim light, cold and metal. But still Data. Always Data. It’s jarring to see him damaged like this, for sure, but he’s still Data. 

“Hey,” Geordi says. He reaches out, giving Data plenty of time to stop him or move away, and he puts a hand on the side of Data’s head. Slowly and purposefully, Geordi plants a kiss on his metal cheek. “I see you. Okay? I know you.” 

  
  


Data meets with Counselor Troi the following evening, and Geordi meets him afterward for a game of chess. And things aren’t quite okay yet— but they’re getting there. Slowly but surely, they’re getting there. 


End file.
